Calamity
by Lairelithoniel
Summary: 12 Districts. 24 tributes. 1 winner. The 72nd annual Hunger Games is about to begin and this year it is bound to be a calamity. AN: MI characters, HG universe, long chapters and lots of serious business. Rating will probably go up later.
1. Prolouge

**AN: I'm not a big fan of crossovers, to be honest, and this will probably be the death of me. But it was a challenge from a friend of mine and I would hate not to be able to rub it in her face when I'm done. Yeah, something like that. Long story.**

**I'll be changing POV's during the story, mainly focusing on five characters; Magnus, Alec, Isabelle, Clary and Jace. I hope it's clear enough for the readers. Also, some of the characters might not have the same relationships with each other as in the MI books. You have been warned.**

**Reviews are more than welcome. Constructive critisism, yes plz.**

**Anyway. Enjoy, I guess~.**

* * *

It was only a short five minutes' drive to the city's main square where the reaping would take place. What really took time was finding a place to park the car since most of the other District 2 inhabitants would drive there as well. For that reason Robert Lightwood had decided that they would walk instead. Isabelle had complained since she had chosen to wear immensely high heels, but the shoe-crisis had been resolved by Maryse who had ordered her daughter to either stop complaining or change her shoes. Isabelle had finally changed her shoes, much against her will. It might seem trivial to others, but since everyone in the District would be gathered in the square she wanted to look her best. She never liked the idea of the Games, but that didn't mean that she wouldn't use any given occasion to dress up.

They had made it to the square on time, but only because Robert had made sure that they left the house earlier than they had to in order to be there on the stroke of 1. The oldest Lightwood children had wished each other good luck before they had lined up with their respective gender- and age-group. The inhabitants between the age of 12 and 18 had been divided into two groups; the boys on the right side of the square and the girls on the left. The groups were then placed in seven lines, representing the age-group; The 18-year-olds at the front and the 12-year-olds at the back of the square. If she turned her head just a bit Isabelle could see Alec from where she stood. His height made him one of the most noticeable in his age-group, though Isabelle could make out a couple of others who seemed to be taller. He was more well-dressed than usual, probably because of the occasion, but his colourscheme was the same as always, black and dark blues, and his hair was as much of a mess as it had always been. This was the last year his name would be in the lottery, but at the same time that meant that he would be in the most endangered group. His name would be in the bowl six times, making his chances of becoming a tribute higher than Isabelle's by a third.

Her gaze went from Alec's tense form to the buildings surrounding the square. The tall houses were covered by the Capitol's brightly colored banners and the camera crews were bustling around on the rooftops, making last-minute adjustments to their equipment. Nothing that went on in the square or on the stage would escape their attention.

She sighed and turned her attention to the stage again. Even though the reaping had yet to begin she could still feel an uncomfortable heaviness at the pit of her stomach. She basically felt like she had swallowed a rock. Isabelle had turned 16 that very summer and that had increased the odds of her name being drawn from the bowl at the reaping. Of course that also meant that there would only be two more years, two more reapings, before she was completely safe and never had the chance of becoming a tribute. Still, 16 years meant four slips of paper with 'Isabelle Lightwood' on them, and she could not get that out of her head. Having been raised in District 2, she had always been told that being chosen as a tribute for the Hunger Games was a great honor, and she believed that, but she had never wanted that honor for herself. The thought of being a tribute didn't exactly scare her, since she would stand a fair chance in the Games, so that wasn't the issue. To Isabelle the problem was that she loved her family more than her District and even Panem. Patriotism had never really been her thing.

There were three people on the stage; District 2's mayor, Aldertree, a representative of the Capitol, who preferred being referred to as Madam Dorothea rather than her real name, and finally one of District 2's winning tributes, Hodge Starkweather. They were quite the bunch, Isabelle thought to herself. Aldertree was by far the shortest and roundest of the three. His bald head only reached Hodge's shoulder. Hodge, on the other hand, was a tall man with broad shoulders and only a few gray hairs to reveal his age. His shoulders were slumped and there was a haunted look in his eyes – the work of the Hunger Games, Isabelle presumed. Madam Dorothea perfected the odd trio with her turquoise turban, decorated with something that looked suspiciously similar to a stuffed mockingjay, and her draped ropes in matching colors.

When the Capitols anthem was over Aldertree stood up and walked to the front of the stage. He beamed at the audience, obviously trying to be charismatic and charming, but the people of District 2 knew better. Aldertree was probably one of the most unpleasant people you could have the misfortune of running into, especially if he had a bad day. Panem's other inhabitants knew nothing of this other side of the mayor, though, so he kept up his act in front of the cameras.

"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks." He said in a dramatic voice, still with a smile on his face. He said this every year, as he was supposed to, and always in the same way. He then began listing the previous winning tributes from District 2. There were quite a few since District 2 had always had the advantage of having led good lives, but also because of the mentality of the tributes. A lot of them volunteered and wanted nothing more than to win the Hunger Games. The last name on the list was Hodge's, not because he was the latest victor, but because he had been chosen to function as a mentor to this year's tributes. Aldertree then introduced Madam Dorothea who stood from her seat and took his place at the front of the stage.

"Welcome, dears." She said. Her voice was surprisingly girly for a woman her size. "And happy Hunger Games."

Isabelle zoned out at this point and though her eyes were still fixed on Dorothea she had stopped listening. The woman's attempt of sounding as mystical and alluring as she probably felt in her fortuneteller-outfit was rather annoying to listen to. Isabelle had happily forgotten about her way of talking since the last reaping. Her thoughts wandered back to a few hours earlier when she had been in the backyard with Alec and Max. She tried not to think about the fact that it might be the last time she would be with both of them like that. How would Max react if her own or Alec's name was drawn? Speaking of the Devil, she thought, as Dorothea crossed the stage to get to the bowl with the girl's names.

"First up, the girl that will represent District 2 in this year's Hunger Games…" Dorothea now spoke in the same dramatic fashion Aldertree had a few minutes earlier, as she reached one of her hands into the bowl. A deafening silence had spread through the crowd as the anticipation grew. "Isabelle Lightwood!"

Isabelle felt like Dorothea had just punched her in the face. For a moment she just stood there, completely frozen, waiting. But no one stepped forward to volunteer which meant that she had no chance of escape. Finally she took a step forward and then another until her feet had carried her to the steps to stage. She made sure not to let any of her chaotic emotions show and tried to act confident instead. Appearing weak on screen was basically suicide. She would have to deal with her emotions later, when there were no cameras. The crowd started clapping when she all but strode onto the stage with a cocky smile plastered on her lips. She refused to look at the crowd and kept her focus on Dorothea instead, but she still heard none of the words the woman said to her. Dorothea said something else and gave her a pad on the shoulder, before she went to the other side of the stage. Isabelle finally turned to the crowd and her eyes immediately caught Alec's. His brows were furrowed and his eyes seemed several shades darker than usual. She didn't look at the crowd behind the possible tributes since she wasn't sure she could bear looking at her parents and Max. Instead she turned her attention to Dorothea again, as the woman drew a slip of paper from the other bowl.

"And the lucky gentleman joining Miss Lightwood is…" She unfolded the slip and smoothed it a bit. Her eyes went wide and the silence was drawn out longer than when Isabelle's name was called. After a few seconds a smile formed on Dorothea's lips. "Well, well, well, what are the odds?"

She looked up from the slip, directly at the audience, as she finally broke the agonizing silence; "Alexander Lightwood!"

At that very moment Isabelle felt her entire world crumbling.

* * *

The double doors were flung open and Jocelyn rushed to Clary's side. Not a word was said as Jocelyn put her arms around her daughter, holding her close to her chest and rocking her gently as she had done when Clary was still a little kid.

"It's okay." Jocelyn whispered, but whether it was to calm down Clary or herself wasn't very clear. "We'll figure something out. Luke will go to the Capitol and apologize and then they'll choose someone else."

"Mum." Clary interrupted. She was on the verge of tears now, but she didn't want her mother to see her cry. If Jocelyn knew how scared she was it would only make matters worse. "It won't change anything. You know that."

There was no reply. Jocelyn continued rocking her back and forward while stroking her hair. Clary felt as if she was 5 again and had just woken from a nightmare. Technically she hadn't woken up yet and was still in the nightmare, but she remembered how Jocelyn would always be there in seconds when she had woken up scared as a child. At least she would have Jace with her in the Arena, but in the end that wasn't such a good thing. Facing your best friend in the Hunger Games would probably be horrible, but at least they would have each other's support up until the Games began.

Clary turned her head, not wanting to look at her. Jocelyn was young and beautiful, but living in District 12 had taken its toll on her. Her red hair already had the first grey streaks and the wrinkles at the corner of her eyes kept getting more distinct. The fact that Clary's name had been drawn only added to her worries and it would show on her face.

When she turned her head away from her mother Clary became aware of another person in the room. Luke was standing awkwardly by the door, arms crossed and eyes fixed on the two redheads. His eyes flickered a bit when Clary caught his gaze, as if he didn't want to look at her. She could tell that he felt guilty, even before he spoke.

"I'm so sorry, Clary." He said, but he didn't come any closer. Clary could imagine that Jocelyn had told him not to touch her. "I never meant for this to happen."

"I know." She muttered, trying to smile, but it only made it harder for her to keep from crying. She could feel the tears at the corners of her eyes now.

A knock on the door told them that their time was almost up. Jocelyn placed her hands on Clary's shoulders, pushing her away in a gentle movement. Their eyes locked and Clary literally had to force herself to keep the tears from falling; her mother was crying. Jocelyn never cried, she was always so strong, but now tears were falling freely from her eyes. She raised one of her slender hands and stroked a strand of Clary's hair out of her face.

"I love you." Jocelyn said. "Don't do anything stupid, okay? Stay away from the others."

Clary merely nodded. She stood no chance in the Games and even if she tried to avoid the other tributes she wasn't expecting to last long. She didn't mention this to her mother, of course. She would be strong for Jocelyn and she would try to stay alive, but she knew that she wouldn't last long.

_Even Luke knows it_, she thought as she glanced at him. He looked as if she had already died and it had all been his fault. She was glad she wouldn't be able to see his or Jocelyn's reactions when the Game began.

"Don't blame him." She muttered, looking back at Jocelyn. She knew that her mother was probably furious at Luke because of this. "It's not his fault."

Jocelyn was about to reply when the double doors opened again and a Peacekeeper informed them that time was up. A final, desperate embrace between mother and daughter, more muttered comforts and promises from both of them, before Jocelyn sat up straight and wiped the tears from her eyes. Clary recognized the strong, stubborn woman who had raised a daughter alone for the past 13 years and who would not submit to anything or anyone. Not even this.

The Peacekeeper led Jocelyn out of the room, but after a brief exchange of words with Luke at the door, it seemed that he agreed to let Luke stay. Jocelyn looked displeased, but she didn't object. Instead she looked back at Clary with a regretful glimpse in her eyes. A second later the doors closed, separating Clary from her mother. She felt the tears pressing again when she realized that she might never see Jocelyn again.

Luke sat down next to her, where Jocelyn had been moments before, but there was no tight embrace this time. Instead Luke took her hand and placed something in it. Something small and cold; metal of some kind, probably. Clary looked at the small bronzed pendant in her palm. It had an intricate design that she could best describe as a misshaped eye merged with a cross. There was a graceful feel to it despite of the weird design. She looked at Luke in confusion.

"It's a rune." He explained, smiling slightly at her obvious confusion. "It means 'Fearless'. I figured you could take it with you. To the arena…"

Clary closed her hand around the pendant and merely looked at her fisted hand for a moment. Then she furrowed her brows and threw her arms around Luke's neck, finally letting the tears fall. Luke understood, she knew that he did. He had been in the Game himself. She didn't have to be strong in front of him. He placed his arms around her awkwardly and stroked her back. She really needed that rune; if there was one thing that she wasn't right now it would be fearless.

* * *

The train did not disappoint his expectations. It was just as ridiculously pompous and luxurious as it had been described, but Magnus wasn't one to complain. He was used to these sorts of glamorous surroundings anyway, and to Magnus Bane, bigger and bolder was always better. He was currently sitting on the bright blue bench along one of the walls. It was more of a sofa than a bench, really, but the purpose of it was the same. The sound of his perfectly manicured nails drumming against the surface of the table in front of him was almost as loud as the clicking of his blonde companions heels, as she paced the lacquered floor. If he knew Camille right, and he did, it wasn't because she was nervous, but because she was restless. If they were allowed to fight before the Games began she would have tried to kill him three times already. They had been close in the past, but that didn't matter to either of them now. Magnus guessed that it was lucky for him that violence between tributes was prohibited until they entered the Arena.

Other than Camille he didn't have much competition, though. She had pointed the same thing out when they had seen the other tributes on the screen in the living room compartment of the train.

"Guess it's only the guy from 4 we'll have to worry about." Camille had said, eyes fixed on the screen. "The girl will be easy enough to deal with and those two from 2 aren't even real Careers this year. It's almost disappointing, isn't it?"

"You shouldn't underestimate them." That might have been his response, but he agreed with her. Apart from the boy from District 4 - Jonathan, or some other plain and boring name -, he and Camille wouldn't have much competition apart from each other - maybe the guy from 7. He looked pretty mean, but looks can be deceiving. Either way, his only real concern was Camille. He could probably outsmart the rest, but Camille knew him as well as he knew her. She would be fierce competition.

_I can always hope that someone else finishes her of_. He curled his lips into a slight smirk. As if she had felt him looking at her she turned her head and met his gaze. She raised an eyebrow, probably at his expression.

"What's with that face, Magnus?" She said, countering his smirk with her own. Obviously she wanted to seem confident.

"Nothing much, sweetheart." Magnus replied calmly. "I was just wondering if a few scars would improve your hideous face."

The smirk on the blonde's lips disappeared immediately and her eyes narrowed to slits. For a moment she looked so furious that Magnus was actually expecting an attack, but rather than pouncing on him Camille turned on her hills and marched off, leaving the dining-compartment.

_It's almost a pity that the train ride is so short._ He thought to himself, the smirk returning to his lips.


	2. Chapter 1

**So, yeah… This took me a while. Sorry for the extremely slow update, but I have been pretty busy lately. My inspiration has also been at an all time low – still is, really -, which is why the chapter isn't as long as it could have been. I'll try to change that, but I make no promises.**

**I don't know if Jace and Clary are too OOC in this. They were never really my favourites, so I haven't thought much about their personalities. Oh well~.**

**Enjoy anyway.**

* * *

_It's Luke's fault_, Clary thought as she took the final step into the cylinder. The Gamemaker's voice could still be heard, even when the door slid shut behind her. 9… 8… 7… _It's Luke's fault that I'm here._

She didn't blame him for anything, though. She knew that Luke had never expected that 'Clarissa Fairchild' would be chosen as District 12's female tribute because of his actions. After all, she wasn't really Luke's daughter or even related to him at all. But it made sense when she thought about it. Clary had never known her father, but Luke had always been there, taking care of both Clary and her mother, Jocelyn. So even if she wasn't his relative by blood, Luke had still been the only father she had known. Entering her in the Hunger Games was the best way to get back at Luke without making it too obvious. Luke was one of District 12's two Hunger Games victors and everything he did was closely monitored by the Capitol. He had recently let it slip that the Capitol seemed to abuse the power they had over the victors and Clary was sure that was the very reason why she was standing here; in the Plexiglas cylinder, dressed as some sort of child soldier, about to be raised to the surface. In less than a minute she would be in the Arena.

3. 2. 1. The platform beneath her feet began to move, taking her up through the cylinder. She looked at her stylist, gradually disappearing from her sight along with The Launch Room, as the platform took her through the roof. She was surrounded by darkness, probably incased in dirt, but the round circle of light at the end of the cylinder seemed much more frightening. The Arena was up there. She reached up and clutched the pendant Luke had given her. As the light above her drew closer she had to close her eyes, not wanting to see what was coming.

"Just stay on the platform." She muttered to herself. "Nothing will happen for the first 60 seconds. Just stay on the platform."

Even with her eyes closed she could tell that she had gotten out of the darkness and when the platform stopped moving a few seconds later Clary knew that she was in the Arena. This was real. In a few minutes the 72nd annual Hunger Games would begin. She could feel wind blowing through her hair and hear the faint sound of birds whistling, but there was no talking. But they were there, the other tributes. When she finally opened her eyes she looked around at the rest of them. They were placed in a half-circle around the Cornucopia on their own platform, all 23 of them. There was a large digital screen placed on the metal sculpture and she knew that it would be counting down from 60 in a few moments. She had no idea how much time she had before the countdown would begin, but she had to make good use of that time; size up the other tributes again and get an impression of the Arena. They were in a rocky area, full of boulders and something that looked like small cliffs. Weather it was a steep fall from the edge some 500 meters to the right she couldn't tell from here, but it could be a place to hide. Clary quickly dismissed that idea. She would be way to close to the Cornucopia and thus also the Careers. The woods straight ahead or the flat steppe to the right seemed like a much better idea.

A mechanic sound ahead of her made her turn her attention to the screen on the Cornucopia again. The countdown began. She found Jace, the other District 12 tribute, five platforms to her right. It was reassuring to see him again, but there was no time for happy reunions right now. She had to get away from the Cornucopia first and then she could try to find Jace later. She was to the far left of the half-circle which meant that she could make an easy escape if she ran to the nearby woods or across the steppe.

She looked at the other tributes again and scolded herself for making the assumption that escape would be easy. It wouldn't. She had Careers on both sides; the girl from District 4 on her left and the boy from 1 at her right. Clary frowned. She would have to make a run for it while the rest of them fought it out at the Cornucopia. Her eyes darted back to the screen. 20 seconds left. 19. 18. She couldn't afford to make mistakes. Once the time was up she had to run immediately, but if she stepped of the platform too early she would be blown to pieces. She had to get the timing right. 10 seconds. Her heart was racing now. She looked at Jace and her eyes locked with his golden ones. He nodded in direction of the woods, clearly wanting her to stay away from the Cornucopia. She had every intention of doing so.

The first canon was shot. The Game was on. One had barely changed to zero before Clary was of. She ran at full speed towards the trees, intending to cross the field around the Cornucopia and disappear into the woods. But apparently she had been figured out. She barely made it to the middle of the field before the blonde girl from District 1 was right in front of her. There was a deadly smile on her full lips.

Clary tried to stop before it was too late, but she couldn't find her footing in the loose dirt. She stumbled a bit, far too close to the other girl, and tried to draw back. Instead she fell. There was a gleam of silver right by her eye and she felt a slight sting underneath it. It wasn't until she had hit the ground that she saw the knife in Camille's hand. Clary cried out as Camille lashed out at her again. She rolled over so she was on hands and knees, barely avoiding the blade. Instead of looking back she crawled a few steps before trying to get to her feet. And then she bolted forwards to get away. There was no pain so she assumed that Camille hadn't managed to lodge the knife in her back.

It turned out that the blonde had been distracted. When Clary turned around Camille was busy fighting off another of the older tributes, who had apparently wrestled her to the ground. They seemed to be fighting over the knife. Welcoming the distraction with open arms Clary looked around the field, trying to orientate herself. It was a bloodbath. Several tributes were already on the ground, some still trashing, but most of them were definitely dead. It was always like this. A vast amount of tributes would die here, by the Cornucopia, on the very first day of the Hunger Games.

All of the Careers seemed to be breathing, no surprise there. The two Lightwoods had teamed up, but rather than taking part in the killing they seemed to use the initial confusion for a different reason. While the other tributes were killing each other of Isabelle was roaming through supplies while Alec stood guard. He had a bow in his hands and seemed to know exactly how to use it. Camille had gotten rid of her opponent and was currently finishing of the small boy from District 6.

Clary didn't take much notice of the rest of them. Instead she ran, heading straight for the woods as she had originally planned. Luke had told her to get away from the Cornucopia as quickly as possible and she had promised Jace to get out of there. And she was almost out of there when she heard someone yell her name.

_Jace._

She turned her head towards the sound of his voice, but the person she saw behind her certainly wasn't Jace. It was the girl from District 4, racing towards her with a spear in one hand. Clary tried to dodge by diving towards the ground when the other girl threw the weapon at her, but her reflexes weren't fast enough. The head of the spear tore through the flesh of her arm. The spear fell and hit the ground with a thud at approximately the same time as Clary's knees did. She tried to break the fall with her hands, but as her hands hit the ground a shock of pain went through her arm. She cried out and fell unto her side.

The other girl was on her in a second. It hadn't taken her more than a few moments to get the spear back and Clary expected to find it burrowed in her chest, but instead she heard a nasty crack from above and then the weight on her midsection was gone. The other girl had fallen off of her and onto the ground. Clary opened her eyes to see what had happened, but she when her eyes landed on the other girl she wished that she hadn't. The side of the girls head seemed to have caved in, obviously because her skull had cracked, and her hair was matted with blood. Clary felt sick.

"What the hell are you doing?" Someone grabbed her unharmed arm and pulled her to her feet. Jace's golden eyes held an intense and unpleasant glimpse that she had never seen before. "Never turn your back to the other tributes!"

She didn't respond. Her eyes were fixed on the club in Jace's hand; it was covered in blood. Jace had killed the girl from District 4. Jace had actually killed another human-being. Clary knew that he had done it to save her, but she could only think of the fact that Jace really _was_ capable of killing. Could she really trust him? Right now she had no other choice. She let him drag her away from the Cornucopia and the blood-spattered field. He led her into the woods, taking her far away from the others. He began talking at some point. She only knew because she could see his lips move, but the sound of her own heartbeat drowned out his voice. Her heart was still pounding when Jace let go of her and she collapsed against a tree, eyes wide and mind scarred from the scene she had just witnessed. This was real. The game was on.

* * *

Jace stayed with her for the rest of the day. As soon as he had thought that they were far enough from the Cornucopia he had cleansed and bandaged her wound. It hadn't stopped bleeding right away so the blood had dyed the bandages an eerie red color, but there wasn't any more bandage left in the first aid kit Jace had gotten earlier. They hadn't talked much, apart from a few exchanges of short sentences. Jace had tried to pick up a conversation when he treated her wound, but Clary wasn't much of a conversational partner right now; she had answered him with 'yes' or 'no' or merely shrugged. In the end they had fallen into an uncomfortable silence which had lasted for a few hours now. Clary didn't really mind it since a conversation with Jace would be just as uncomfortable as the silence right now, but in the end it seemed to get on Jace's nerves.

"You're upset, aren't you?" He asked. "You're upset that I killed that girl."

"Of course I'm upset." Clary said, a slightly sarcastic tone to her voice. "I'm not really used to seeing people getting their heads bashed in."

"I had to!" He was obviously getting frustrated.

Jace had a temper, but normally he wouldn't lose his head over something like this. He was under pressure, they all were now, and Clary knew that she would have to be careful with what she said. Jace probably wouldn't hurt him, but he became pretty self-destructive when he was under pressure. Right now she couldn't care less though.

"You didn't have to." Clary snapped back at him. "I survived, but she died.

"I did it to save you, Clary." He stood up quickly. His tone was sarcastic, almost like acid, and it probably hurt her more than he had intended it to. "But I'll keep that in mind; don't try to save Clarissa's life again. She doesn't fancy that."

"It has nothing to do with what I fancy!" She all but shouted. "You're not being fair!"

Jace snorted. She hated when he did that. He always did it when she said something ridiculous, but she had gotten used to Jace being a jerk sometimes. It could even be charming, in an arrogant and so very _Jace_ way, but now it just hurt. They were supposed to support each other, not fighting, but here they were. Clary knew that she had started the fire and she had expected Jace to respond like that. They had both fueled the fire, so Jace wasn't the only one being unfair.

"This isn't fair, Clary." He sighed. "None of this is fair."

He was right about that. Half of the tributes didn't stand a chance in these Games - the bloodbath at the Cornucopia had been a proof of that. The way Clary had been reaped wasn't fair. The entire basis of the Hunger Games wasn't fair. But that didn't mean that the two of them should be fighting like this. They had come into the Game as friends and Clary didn't want this to end, knowing that she had lost what she had with Jace. Back in District 12 people had joked about them, saying that they would end up getting married once Clary was old enough. They had never been more than friends, but even though they had both said it would never happen, Clary wished it would. She had been in love with Jace for a while, but she had never done anything about it. They were more like siblings, not even anything near a couple, and she didn't want to ruin that. Now she wished that she had. After all, there was no chance that they would both make it out alive.

_It's not fair._

Jace remained standing for a few minutes more, before he sat down next to her. Instinctively her hand found his and she let her fingers slip in between his. Jace smiled softly.

"I'm sorry." Clary muttered. She tilted her head and allowed it to rest against his shoulder.

"Don't mention it." He said, making Clary smile. Jace never apologized, even when he had actually been wrong about something. "It's probably our nerves talking."

They sat like that for a while, in comfortable silence for once. Not entirely comfortable, but not really uncomfortable either. They were both a bit tense, listening for any noise that sounded remotely like footsteps or voices. Clary soon felt herself drift off. It was probably a mixture of the blood-loss and the exhaustion after the whole ordeal at the Cornucopia. She felt Jace put his arm around her, resting his hand on her waist rather than her injured arm, and she could hear his steady breathing.

"Just sleep." He whispered to her. "I'll stay awake."

She wanted to object or at least make some kind of arrangement, so that she would sleep for a while and then stay awake later while Jace slept, but she could barely keep her eyes open. The fact that Jace's breathing and heartbeat was so steady only lulled her into a deeper sleep.

_Just a few hours. Surely Jace can stay awake for that long._ She made herself more comfortable, leaning lightly against him. _I'll just sleep for a few hours._

And sleep she did.

* * *

**Cliché ending of this chapter is cliché. Haha. Review anyway. I liek dem reviews.**


	3. Chapter 2

**AN: I promised a longer chapter, I think. Well, it's actually shorter than the last one. *shot* ****I know this is a pretty disappointing chapter. Not much action. But I wanted to have more than just mindless killing in this fic and I do what I want! Okay, I promise stuff will go down soon. Just now right now. **

**Yes, I am alive! I had exams and stuff so I didn't have much time for writing. I have never been so stressed and nervous in my life. Honestly. Gonna be worse next year, oh joy. But I have time now and I am going to kick my own butt and write better stuff. Cross my heart and all. (y)**

* * *

Apart from the initial bloodbath at the Cornucopia the first few days in the Arena went by relatively quietly. While the Gamemakers and parts of the audience might have been disappointed Alec wasn't one to complain. He knew that he wouldn't be able to avoid a fight in the long run, but if he could postpone it for now that was fine by him. All that really mattered anyway was that both he and Isabelle were still alive and that none of them had gotten more than a few scratches at the Cornucopia. He could probably thank the other Careers for that even if he was reluctant to do so.

They hadn't exactly joined the Career pack or made any sort of alliance with them. It was more like a silent agreement that had been made after the area around the Cornucopia had cleared out and they had been the only ones left: To watch each other's backs until they had the chance to knife it. Alec couldn't say that he trusted any of them, but for now this was probably the best solution. The others were all fierce fighters and dangerous opponents, so having them on his and Isabelle's good side, at least at the beginning, was better than going against them right away. For now he would stick to his initial strategy – Watching them fight and interact, while trying not to reveal too much about himself. He already had a few things he could use later.

The girl from 1, Camille, was extremely arrogant and self-centered. A carefully placed jab at her persona would unleash a fit of rage, but her habit of over-estimating herself was probably her greatest weakness. While seemingly carefree and friendly, Magnus, the guy from 1, was actually extremely cunning. He had a way with words and Alec wouldn't be surprised if he would be able to play most people out against each other. Clearly he was not a person to be trusted. The final member of the group, Jonathan, seemed the most obvious threat. If Alec had to give Jonathan a label it would read 'psychopath' – While the rest of them fought for survival this guy definitely enjoyed killing. The first thing he had done when the clock had reached zero was to hunt down and kill his fellow tribute, the girl from 4, because "she was a pain in the ass". Alec could still remember the cold expression that had lingered in Jonathan's eyes when he had said that.

Fortunately Jonathan had stalked of a few hours ago, claiming that he was restless. Alec knew that Jonathan being restless meant that whoever was left out there had to watch out for themselves or they would be decapitated. As selfish as it was he would rather stick Jonathan on the other tributes and have him out of their improvised camp. This left Alec with Isabelle and Magnus since Camille had gone with Jonathan.

"Just in case." She had muttered to Magnus before following the other blonde into the woods. Apparently Alec wasn't the only one who had been unnerved by him.

Magnus had disappeared into the Cornucopia, where they had decided to keep the extra weapons and supplies, to do God knows what, while Isabelle had joined Alec at the mouth of it. From here they had a clear view of the rocky grounds ahead, as well as most of the flatter steppe to their left. She was restlessly picking up the smaller stones from the ground and carelessly throwing them towards the cliff further ahead.

"How are you holding up?" He asked her, but he already knew the answer to that. She wasn't doing too well. Even hardcore, I-can-handle-anything-that-comes-at-me Isabelle was having a hard time accommodating to the Arena.

"Fine, all things considered." She threw another stone before looking up at him. Without the makeup she looked much younger than she had done back in District 2, but her eyes were already starting to have that worn out look you would see in the eyes of much older people. Even now, as the darkness was slowly creeping up on them, he could tell that she had lost the usual spark in her eyes. "At least we're alive. And Jonathan's gone for now. I guess that's a plus."

"Guess you're right." Alec muttered as an answer.

Apart from the being alive part, and Jonathan being gone, there wasn't anything positive about their situation, though. The fact that one of them had to die in order for the other to return to their family in District 2 was constantly looming over both of them even if it wasn't really something they had talked about. All Alec knew was that he would do anything to keep his sister alive and hopefully get killed in the process so she wouldn't have to do it in the end. He was pretty sure Isabelle had the exact same plan; Keeping him alive and then getting herself killed. But two could play that game and Alec would be sure to 'win', no matter the costs. The other tributes, or the Careers at least, had probably figured out that the Lightwood siblings would stick together for as long as possible and at some point they would probably be played out against each other in one way or another, but he was prepared for that already. While Alec wasn't the ideal tribute he was a decent strategist and he had already played several scenarios through and adapted his game plan to fit most of the outcomes he could think of. Someone would probably screw up this game plan and then he would be back to square one, but for now it was really all he could do to prevent himself from being caught up in the stress that had already seemed to be getting to other tributes. Both Camille and Jonathan seemed really on edge already and it was probably only a matter of time before one of them blew. Maybe letting the two blondes wander into the woods alone wasn't such a good idea after all.

_Less competition_, Alec though grimly. While he really didn't want to think of it that way he couldn't afford having any other attitude towards other tributes dying.

There wasn't much conversation for the rest of the night. Camille and Jonathan both returned when the sun had set completely and joined the rest of them for the usual silent dinner, where the only questions asked would be if anyone was hurt or how they should organize the nightshifts. All five of them sleeping at the same time was too risky. Alec agreed to take the first shift since he wasn't feeling particularly tired. Magnus made a joke of staying up with him to keep him warm, managing to make Alec blush by his shear boldness, but still got nothing but at rejection.

They all stayed up for another few hours and listened halfheartedly as the Anthem filled the cool silence of the Arena and the night sky was lit up. Considering what a lousy mood Jonathan had been in when he had left the camp and headed into the woods it was rather surprising that only three tributes had died during that day. That meant they were down to 10 tributes. It always surprised Alec how tributes seemed to drop like flies the first few days, but as they became fewer it was only natural that less people were killed every day. One of the two was the boy from District 3. He was probably around Isabelle's age, with dark hair, brown eyes and a pair of glasses placed on the bridge of his nose.

"I talked to him once during training." Isabelle said, a sad tone to her voice. "He seemed like a good guy."

"The good guys always die first." Magnus chirped in. Apparently he had been leaned against the side of the Cornucopia, right behind the spot that the siblings had positioned themselves at. He leaned forwards and blinked one of his cat like eyes at Alec. "But don't worry, blue-eyes. I'll watch your back."

Alec merely rolled his eyes and turned his head away, attempting to hide the fact that Magnus' repeated comments and pickup lines were actually making him rather embarrassed, but when Isabelle added that Magnus would be watching something slightly lower than his back the blush returned full force. He wasn't used to people making that sort of jokes about him and he really hadn't expected it to happen during the Games.

"Could you two get your heads out of the gutter instead?" Alec asked pointedly, but it was probably hard to take him seriously when there was still a light pink tinge spread out on his cheeks. "This isn't really the time to be making jokes."

Magnus leaned in closer and Alec stiffened a bit when he felt the other male's breath against his neck.

"Oh, I'm not joking." He all but purred, making Alec bite his lip in embarrassment. Luckily Magnus decided that he had made Alec uncomfortable enough and retreated for the night. Whatever the guy was playing at Alec wasn't sure he appreciated it.

"He's just messing with you, Alec." Isabelle said and nudged his shoulder lightly. Whatever the reason Alec still spend a few very awkward hours at the mouth of the Cornucopia, trying to figure out just what exactly Magnus was trying to accomplish. If Magnus was trying to make him uncomfortable he had certainly succeeded.

* * *

Being dragged away from camp the next day seemed like the perfect opportunity to talk things through with his sister. Another routine amongst the Careers was that at least two of them would scout the surrounding woods, at least one person would stay back to watch the Cornucopia and Jonathan would go on his daily killing spree. Alec and Isabelle had gone out to check the perimeter around the Cornucopia camp while Magnus had taken the task of keeping an eye on Jonathan, leaving Camille to watch over their supplies. Before Alec could get a word through Isabelle had already started talking.

"We need to get rid of Jonathan." She said. "And if we can't get rid of him we need to split from the others. Who knows when he decides to turn on us."

"It's not like we can really trust District 1 either." Alec said, turning his attention to Isabelle, rather than looking for signs of other tributes nearby. He had been thinking the exact same thing, after all. "But we should stay where we are for now. Right now Jonathan is the only immediate threat. And I bet Magnus and Camille would like to see him gone as well."

She nodded slowly, averting her eyes. They both knew that they would be targets soon since it had already been prestigious to be the one to take out both of the Lightwood siblings after the interviews leading up to the Games. It would only be a matter of time before their supposed teammates turned on them.

"Suppose we split from the Careers," Alec said, still looking at his sister, "are we still going to stick together? If we don't have the others to..."

"Of course we'll stick together." Isabelle interrupted impatiently. She looked at him again with a defiant look in her dark eyes. "It's not like I don't know that you'll go and get yourself killed to give me a better chance if I don't keep an eye on you."

"If you say so." Alec raised both his hands in a gesture of surrender and sighed. He would find his way around that decision later on, but right now he would just go along with Isabelle. She was too stubborn to give in any way.

"And I do say so." She smirked and leaned back against the trunk of the tree behind her. "The Gamemakers are probably fed up with the slow pace anyway. They'll probably throw in a few surprises soon. It might give us a chance of splitting from the Careers without having to take all three of them on."

"It might." Alec agreed. The little alterations the Gamemakers would make to the Arena when the Game became too boring was usually something flashy and a brilliant diversion, but they were usually designed to bring the tributes closer together, not further apart. "But I guess we'll have to wait and see."

They both fell silent and an unfamiliar awkwardness settled between them. This had been happening more and more often since they entered the Arena. Alec didn't know what he had been expecting, but the fact that he and his sister were beginning to drift apart because of the Games really bothered him. His inner cynic told him that it was probably better this way since Isabelle wouldn't miss him as much if he died, but he knew that wasn't the case. Life would never be the same for either of them if one of them managed to make it out alive.

The silence was broken by a rustle of leaves to Alec's left. Someone or something's steps were disturbing the forest floor. Rather than looking towards the sound the Lightwood siblings looked at each other, exchanging a short glance, before they both grabbed their weapons and began moving again; Isabelle heading towards the nearby brush while Alec moved to check behind the tree she had been leaning against. The sound of more leaves rustling was heard, this time somewhere behind them, but the sound decreased. Whoever had been nearby while they talked was gone, but judging from the set of footprints left in the loose dirt nearby Alec would say it was definitely someone rather than something. The size indicated that it was probably a boy in the late teenage years. Someone was definitely nearby and had probably been watching the Cornucopia from the edge of the woods, maybe sizing up the competition or waiting for an opportunity to steal supplies. Whatever the reason, they had to keep it in mind whenever they were back at the camp.

While it would probably be smartest to follow the unknown tribute and finish him off before he became a problem they decided to leave him alone. Instead they headed back to the Cornucopia with a silent agreement of not telling the others about their possible watcher.

* * *

**AN (again, tihi): No action, but I gave you sassy Magnus instead. Swag and action is almost the same. In Denmark it is, anyway.. I think.. ಠ_ಠ**

**Also.. Couldn't think of titles for my newer chapters. Went back to just calling them Chapter something-something. So creative.**


	4. Chapter 3

**So, obviously, I have thrown the idea of deadlines and regular uploading in the trash. Sorry. Or well, not really. I am not going to have a regular upload day in the future, just like I haven't up until now. I know it's annoying and all, but I'd rather write when I have inspiration than when I simply _have to_. It shows on the quality of my writig, trust me.**

**Anyways, moving on to the jollier part! Yes, jollier is now a word. I feel like I have been neglegting this story and so I bring you another chapter. Hurray! I have not spend too much time correcting errors, since I felt kinda guilty for leaving this thing to collect dust. I'll probably come back to them later.**

**But that's that. Happy reading! And thanks for the reviews. 3**

**Warnings for this chapter: A bit of gore and not so pretty language.**

* * *

Camille had ended her nightshift a few hours after dawn and declared that she was going to sleep for a while. The rest of them had gotten up and done whatever morning routine they had gotten used to by now: Isabelle would attempt to comb out her long hair with her fingers and braid it, Alec would stay inside the Cornucopia and fiddle with his bow and arrows for a few minutes and Jonathan would retreat to the plain outside to do God knows what. Magnus himself would merely complain and turn over as Camille came back into the Cornucopia and kicked him in the side on her way. If there was one thing Magnus wasn't it would be a morning person. He would get up eventually since they had to get on with their daily routine, but not once had it been willingly. Today was no exception.

After having checked that nothing in his face was out of place and that his hair wasn't an absolute disaster he met up with Jonathan and the Lightwoods on the plain outside. The sun was pretty sharp, but it did nothing to heat up the Arena. Magnus could see his breath turn into fine mist in front of his face every time he breathed out and each intake of air sent a slight chill down his back. The days were warm, almost uncomfortably warm, but the nights and early mornings sure weren't.

"Guess it's the usual?" He asked indifferently. He was getting tired of this. "Two in, three out?"

"It's been working so far." Isabelle said, tying a string at the end of her braid to keep the hair from getting loose. "Camille will obviously stay here so who's the other one?"

"Well, I'm not staying." Jonathan cut in before anyone else had the chance. The other three exchanged glanced, but none of them had expected anything else. No one really wanted to go with him, but it seemed a bit safer now that they had decided to always be two people around him.

"Alec's with me." Magnus had already hooked his elbow with Alec's and pulled the boy closer to him, giving him no chance of escape. The flustered expression and the slight blush told Magnus that he had succeeded in making the boy uncomfortable – again. It was the only way he could amuse himself, even if it was a pretty poor entertainment, and Alec was the easiest victim since everyone else here was either used to being hit on or simply too much of a psycho to give a damn. "So you're going on a picnic with me and Sulky."

"Splendid." Alec muttered, but he clearly didn't mean it. Magnus' smile only widened when he didn't object, but it wasn't like Alec was left with much choice here.

Isabelle didn't seem to like the idea, but she didn't try to get switch with Alec anyway. They usually stuck together, which was part of the reason Magnus wanted to get Alec away from the Cornucopia and his sister. Not because he wanted to get rid of Alec or find his weaknesses, but just to see how both of them would react if they got separated. They seemed to depend a lot on each other and getting rid of one of them later on would probably leave the other extremely vulnerable. But for now it was a nothing more than a test and Magnus' whim of hitting on Alec.

"Guess it's decided then." Magnus chirped and began walking towards the woods, dragging Alec along with him before anyone had the time to object.

Alec merely came along, seemingly defeated, but still uncomfortable because of the physical contact. At least he wasn't completely rigid like he had been back in the Capitol when Magnus had initially set his sight on him and started randomly touching him. Back then it had been to make the boy insecure and uncomfortable, hopefully making him screw up during the Games, but now it was more for the kicks than anything. Alec was a skilled archer and a decent survivor, but he was no killer and thus no competition. Alec was a genuine good guy and quite good-looking, but while Magnus appreciated a lot of Alec's traits this was till a competition and a matter of life and death. The flirting would remain a joke and the Lightwood boy would remain his competition and that was that.

After a while of walking the decision of bringing Alec along proved to be a good idea. Jonathan was being a silent, moody bastard as usual and the few times he talked he only spat a few insults or swore at the lack of tributes to kill. Magnus was pretty sure he would have turned around and attacked him instead if they had been alone. Apparently two armed people were enough to keep Jonathan in his place, but they had figured that out earlier on in the Games. Apart from that Alec had begun to loosen up a bit. Rather than the deadpan or one word replies Magnus had been getting so far he had actually begun to reveal bits and pieces about himself and his life back in District 2. It was probably subconscious, but better than the slightly defensive and rejecting Alec Magnus had been talking to until now. At one point he had concluded that talking to a door would have been more exciting.

"You and your sister seem close." He commented after a while of silence. While Alec had opened up a bit he wasn't exactly a chatterbox so the conversation came to a halt quite often. Jonathan would also turn around once in a while and ask them to shut the hell up, only using a broader variety of cusswords.

"She's pretty much my best friend." Alec answered honestly as he turned his head to look at Magnus again.

"Hm. Must be hard having her here then." It wasn't like Magnus could imagine what the Lightwood siblings were going through since he had no siblings and when it came down to it he had never cared for anyone but himself too deeply. "Tough luck."

"Well," Alec said with a grim expression, "the odds can't be in everyone's favor, can they?"

"No, I guess they can't." He agreed, shrugging casually. "But everyone can shift the tables by now. The odds could be in your favor if you really want them to."

"Maybe I don't want them to be in my favor."

Magnus facepalmed mentally. Both Lightwood siblings were probably popular with the sponsors, as well as the crowd, because of the unfortunate Reaping. While playing the 'I am not happy and I will not even try to win' card had a certain martyr kind of charm it would surely make Alec's appeal with the sponsors fall. He was, basically, a suicide candidate. Magnus was pretty sure Alec didn't care about popularity or sponsors, though.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart." He said offhandedly. "But if you want them to be in your sister's favor you still have to step up your game."

"You could also just do her a favor and get yourself killed quickly." Jonathan had turned towards them again, clearly annoyed that they wouldn't just take orders and shut up.

Magnus wasn't one to take orders and if that comment had been directed at him he would probably have come up with some impertinent remark, but Alec merely frowned. Whether he was actually taking orders from the blond or just didn't want to start a fight, be it verbal or physical, wasn't too clear, but either way the next hour or so was almost unbearably quiet to Magnus.

* * *

The group began heading back for the Cornucopia when the sun began to set and a dull grey tone became dominant in the forest as the light faded. While there were three of them and they all seemed to be somewhat skilled fighters being in the woods after nightfall still seemed like a bad idea. The other tributes probably hid out here and they could only guess how many traps and snares had been installed out here.

The trip had been, as Jonathan had put it, boring as hell. They had yet to run into any of the other Tributes and the blond's disappointment was evident. While he had been bitching every time Alec or Magnus had as much as breathed a bit too loud it was seemingly okay for him to kick rocks and whatever unfortunate inanimate, as well as a few small critters – Magnus' thoughts instantly went to his beloved kitten back in District 1 -, while cussing like a sailor. Appropriate for a fisherman's son from District 4, but still hypocrisy at its best. Somehow Jonathan's frustrations made Magnus' mood much better, even if their little outing had been somewhat of a failure. Schadenfreude would be the best word to describe his feelings right now. Jonathan's annoyance, and thus also Magnus' source of entertainment, was abruptly stopped by the sound of a short, hoarse scream followed closely by one of the canons. Another tribute had died and judging from the loudness of the scream it was pretty close by.

For a while all three of them stood frozen, not really sure what to do, until Jonathan took off towards the ongoing sound of pleading and screaming. Not a surprise that the aspiring serial killer wanted to be where the action went down, but while Magnus didn't care much for the other tribute's lives he saw no reason to throw himself headfirst into a fight. Especially not with someone who was apparently able to take on at least two other tributes. Basically Jonathan's decision was idiotic, retarded, really, since it might as well be a pair or even a group of people out there. But while these thoughts were still circulating in his head Magnus began to follow the other guy, a crooked smile on his face. If Jonathan was going to get himself killed he sure as hell wasn't going to miss it.

He found Jonathan quickly, even though the screams died out after a while. To his surprise the other boy hadn't thrown himself into the fight between the other two tributes, but instead he was crouching behind a pretty thin brush, watching the scenario that played out in front of them. It wasn't even a fight really. Magnus guessed that the screaming had come from the young boy, who was now lying on his back on the forest floor, as he tried to outrun his attacker. Clearly he stood no chance. The guy that was looming over him was both twice as tall and wide as the boy himself, not to mention armed with a malicious looking battle axe. But even the sharp edge of the weapon didn't look nearly as dangerous as his emotionless smile.

"See, I told you not to run." Even though the increasing darkness made it hard to see the details of what was going on, Magnus had no trouble hearing the fake concern in the older tributes voice as he mocked the defenseless boy at his feet. "And you even left your girlfriend behind."

The boy whimpered something, trying to answer, but he was probably too scared to form a sentence. He couldn't be a day over 13. Magnus vaguely remembered him from training back at the Capitol. A sweet kid, definitely not fit to be fighting in the Arena. When the boy's words began to make sense the other placed his boot on his chest and pressed him firmly into the forest floor. The boy chocked.

"Ssssh." The older tribute cooed, still in the same mocking tone. While his black hair was currently covering his eyes, Magnus would have guessed that he had the same manically ecstatic gleam in his eyes as Jonathan had when he killed. "The sound of cowardice annoys my ears. Let's put an end to it, shall we?"

He raised the axe, preparing to strike, and soon the blade sailed through the air towards the poor kids head. Even for Magnus, who had seen his share of ugly things and didn't consider himself to be squeamish, it was a bit too much to witness a little boy have his face split in two. But just as he was about to turn his head away something whizzed through the air close to his ear and made him freeze. The same something missed the dark-haired tribute by mere inches, as the power behind the swing of the axe made his upper body lurch forwards. The dull thud of the arrow hitting a tree trunk was followed by a bizarre and eerie wet crunch as the axe dug into the boy's skull. His scream stopped before it even began and was replaced by the sound of another canon. Time seemed frozen as Magnus finally turned his head away and looked at Alec, bow raised and free hand still in the position it had been when he had let go of the arrow. He looked both surprised and horrified, as if he wasn't even aware of how he had gotten himself into the situation. Magnus hadn't even noticed that he had followed them. Jonathan, and even the dark haired tribute on the other side of the brush, looked slightly surprised. He seemed to get over it pretty soon, though, as the same malicious smile reappeared on his pale lips. Now that he had turned his head towards them Magnus noticed a striking similarity between this guy and Jonathan; they had the same deranged bloodthirsty expression in their equally dark eyes.

"I guess this belongs to you?" He asked casually, as he twisted the arrow to free it from the tree. "You should be more careful with these, Lightwood. You could have hurt someone."

Magnus noticed how Alec visibly tensed when his name was mentioned. He couldn't blame him. This guy seemed to be the type that had lurked in the corners during their training sessions observing everyone, finding their weaknesses and storing them for later use. No wonder Magnus couldn't put a name to his face.

"You killed a kid…" Alec's voice wasn't exactly shaking, but he was definitely outraged. Magnus thought he even sensed a bit of uncharacteristic anger in Alec's voice.

"We're all kids in here, aren't we?" The stranger asked casually, as if this was a completely casual conversation. "Plus, everyone else has to die if I'm going to win. And trust me, I am going to win."

His dark eyes flashed again as he said the last sentence, but while he clearly wasn't one to be taken lightly Magnus couldn't take his cockiness seriously right now. After all, he was outnumbered and probably aware of it.

"It's three against one." Magnus pointed out, cocking his head to the side. "And I'm sorry to disappoint you, but you're not the only crazy, coldblooded killer in the Arena. We have a psycho on our team too."

Jonathan didn't seem pleased with his title as team psycho, or team _member_ for that matter, but Magnus honestly couldn't care less. If he played the situation well the two of them would be fighting each other soon, hopefully eliminating them both as competition. That was how he was going to play this, really; making others do the dirty work for him as much as possible and then take out the last piece of trash once that was done. Unfortunately his plan never even began to unfold before the sound of the Anthem boomed, startling the three Careers, as the sky was lit up by the hologram, depicting the kills of the day.

The few seconds the small Career group was distracted were enough for the unknown tribute to grab the shaft of his axe and wrench it from his victim's body. With a sarcastic bow he turned around and took off into the forest. Jonathan jerked from his place, probably meaning to follow him, but then he seemed to change his mind. Not even he could see in the dark and it would be suicide to roam around in an area the other tribute had probably gotten used to maneuvering in. Magnus wouldn't have complained if he had followed the stranger, but encouraging him to do so might be a bit too much. Instead they headed back to the Cornucopia in silence.

* * *

**If anyone is confused about the word _schadenfreude_: I couldn't find a proper translation for the danish skadefro, and the dictionary said that schadenfreude is english. Because it's totally not german. Nope. Anyway, it means somethin along the lines of being happy because of other peoples pain. 'kay, I'm done~.**


End file.
